A Slight Obsession
by GeniaTheParadox
Summary: Smutty little drabble. John has a slight obsession with certain parts of Sherlock's body.


I wrote this little thing two days ago in about ten minutes, so apologies for any mistakes. I wanted to do something happy and smutty, with some nice established relationship Johnlock, since actual canon Johnlock is still the single most depressing thing ever. Nothing cheers me up like nice, happy smut. So here we are.

This is kind of my own unabashed way of talking about the parts of Sherlock's appearance than I'm a little bit obsessed with, except it's _John_ that's obsessed. Of course. I'm justifying my own madness here, just go with it.

Anyway, reviews would be nice. Pretty please.

And obviously I don't own anything.

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**A Slight Obsession**

John has a slight obsession with Sherlock's hands.

They drove him to distraction more often than he cared to admit. They were just so... _big_. When Sherlock was in the throes of a particularly complicated deduction during a case that he found _very_ exciting – a tricky puzzle only he could solve, or maybe a very strange and grisly murder – then those hands would be _all over the place_, gesturing wildly, carding through his hair in frustration, clapping together in joy at his own cleverness. When he played his violin those long, slender fingers would work effortlessly over the strings in ways that would make John stare. In calmer moments those hands were usually a steeple under his chin, or those fingers would pluck aimlessly at his violin, or sometimes those fingertips would trace unconsciously around his lips as he stared into space, completely unaware of just how distracting his simple actions were.

John was also becoming slightly obsessed with Sherlock's lips.

Those full, lush, beautiful cupid's bow lips. It wasn't just when Sherlock would trace them with his fingertips while lost in thought that left John staring. Sherlock would bite his bottom lip when he was concentrating hard on an experiment, worrying it between his teeth until it was pink and wet and even plumper. When things weren't going his way Sherlock would pout, full on _pout_ like a spoiled toddler, and rather than be annoyed John would just want to kiss him. When Sherlock gasped, those lips made an almost perfect heart shape. Those lips really were a marvel.

John was becoming slightly obsessed with Sherlock's hair as well.

Those curls weren't quite black, like they seemed from a distance, but actually a very dark brown, with occasional lighter streaks that could only be seen in the sun or when Sherlock had just washed his hair. Before their friendship developed into an actual relationship, John always had to stop himself from just reaching out and running his fingers thought those curls. But now he could, and he did so whenever he got the chance – when Sherlock was hunched over an experiment, when he was thinking in his armchair or sulking on the sofa. John just loved to brush a hand through those curls and, no matter what he was doing at the time, Sherlock would always lean appreciatively into the touch with a content little sigh.

John indulged in all his little obsessions the most in the bedroom.

Those big, beautiful hands touched him in just the right ways, firm in places and gentler in others. Sherlock had committed every inch of John's body to memory, and those hands knew exactly where to touch, exactly the right places that made John shiver. And those _fingers_... just the thought of those long, skilful fingers working him open with such care, wrapped around his cock, wrapped around Sherlock's _own_ cock was enough to make John hard in his trousers. John loved nothing more than to suck those fingers into his mouth, either to wet them before they stretched open his hole, or to lick them clean of their come after Sherlock had curled one huge hand around them both and wanked them off. Going by the groans he let out as he pushed his fingers into John's mouth, Sherlock rather enjoyed it too.

Those _lips_... there were few things in the world more gorgeous than Sherlock's lips after a session of vigorous snogging. They were so plump and wet, red and flushed. John loved to kiss Sherlock senseless, take control, plunder Sherlock's mouth with his tongue, nibble on that luscious bottom lip and suck it into his mouth until Sherlock was so overcome with desire that he couldn't tell you his own name if you promised him a thousand interesting crime scenes in return.

The sight of those lips around his cock was so devastatingly sexy that John usually couldn't bear to watch, opting to shut his eyes tightly so he wouldn't just climax immediately. Sometimes, when he was feeling like a tease, Sherlock would _make_ John watch. He would press a kiss to the tip of John's cock, painting his flushed lips with pre-come and very slowly licking it off. Then that marvellous mouth would so very _slowly_ sink down, devouring the entire impressive length until those lips were stretched wide around the base, making an almost perfect heart shape. When Sherlock made him watch, John was lucky if he lasted a full minute, but even then the torture wouldn't be over. As his orgasm crashed over him, Sherlock would pull back, beautiful hands stroking John through it as he let the thick ropes of come coat his lips, dripping down his chin and his neck. He'd then make a show of licking it up, collecting it all with his fingers before sucking those gorgeous fingers clean, John too breathless and stated to do anything other than watch in awe.

John could use his obsession with Sherlock's curls to his advantage. Nothing could turn Sherlock into a pliant, desperate mess like a hand tugging firmly on his hair. John had done it by accident the first time, and the noise Sherlock had let out was positively pornographic, somewhere between and moan and a growl, before he had gruffly begged John to _please, do it again, please, please, please. _John would grab handfuls of Sherlock's soft curls, tugging extra hard whenever Sherlock did something he _really_ liked, scratching his fingernails against his scalp until Sherlock _purred_. And once it was over and they lay together in the afterglow, John would pet and stroke that hair, twisting the dark brown curls around his fingers until Sherlock fell asleep against his chest.

In all honesty, there were worse things John could have a slight obsession with.

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Hope you enjoyed, Humble Readers.

xxx


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